


thinkin' about the way that you kiss (i want to melt with you)

by Milzilla



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: M/M, Phone Sex, michael embracing the soft bro aesthetic, which gets alex hot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:48:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22255183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Milzilla/pseuds/Milzilla
Summary: alex visits michael at unm. michael's dressed like a soft bro. it does things to alex.
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 95
Kudos: 358





	1. thinkin' about the way that you kiss (i want to melt with you)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [palinodes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/palinodes/gifts).



> this is for kieran because her tags inspired me!! i wrote this in a fever state today so pls forgive any erroneous mistakes

Alex isn’t nervous. He’s _not_. it’s just that it’s the first time he’s visited Michael at UNM. They haven’t seen each other in a few months but they’ve talked on the phone and emailed and texted. Initially just the communication of friends, born from their desire not to lose touch, which eventually morphed into something flirty that makes Alex’s heart _ka-thump_ every time he gets a notification.

They haven’t _exactly_ named what’s going on between the two of them yet, which is fairly on brand for them, Alex supposes. But given that their second-to-last phone call had resulted in the best phone sex he’s ever had, and the follow-up phone call had involved making plans for this weekend, he’s pretty sure he’ll be driving back to Roswell calling Michael his boyfriend.

The thought of which, at the age of twenty-eight, is just as thrilling as it was when he was seventeen.

Michael’s last few texts still sit at the top of his messages:

**[Guerin]** : yeah let’s meet @ pub @ 5

**[Guerin]:** srsly

**[Guerin]:** can’t wait 2 see u

Alex is at the UNM campus pub ten minutes early, so he doesn’t expect Michael to be there yet. Whatever amazing things he’s doing now that he’s enrolled in college, living up here and going to college without the alien-themed Damocles’ sword hanging over his head, that much probably hasn’t changed.

Which is why, when he catches a glimpse of those beloved curls across the room, his breath catches in his throat.

Michael’s leaning casually against the bar, one foot propped up on the stool, nursing a near-full bottle of beer. He’s wearing a black bomber jacket that looks like it might have the UNM logo on the side, and jeans that are slightly faded but don’t seem to have any holes in them. And those curls - soft and falling in ringlets across his forehead, eliciting a sense memory for Alex of his own fingers threading through them. His gaze finally lands on the bright, patterned socks, visible only because Michael's jeans are rolled up past the ankle, and Alex officially wants to melt into the floor.

Then Michael’s head turns and he catches sight of Alex, lips splitting into a wide grin that lights up his whole face.

Alex might _actually_ melt into the floor.

He makes his way over to the bar slowly, mindful of his leg. He’s got the crutch in his car, expects to have to use it all day tomorrow, but he doesn’t want Michael to see it and worry. Not tonight.

The man in question is busy slipping off the stool and standing to greet Alex, pulling him into a hug with one arm around his shoulder to pull him in and the other going around his lower back. Alex melts into it, like he’d wanted to melt into the sticky bar floor, and lets his eyes slip shut for just a moment. His own arms slide around Michael’s waist, squeezing lightly.

“It’s good to see you, Private,” he hears in his ear.

The nickname doesn’t sting like it used to, maybe because he knows the intention no longer skews that way. Instead it makes him feel the same that _darlin’_ or _sweetheart_ do, drawled down the phone line and whispered over the miles that separate them, warm and pleasant echoing around his chest.

They pull back after way longer than is socially-acceptable and Michael takes a step back to look Alex over. His gaze drags down slowly and Alex fights to keep still. He knows, objectively, that he looks good. He’d picked the good pair of jeans that hugged his thighs, an old airforce jacket over a black t-shirt, and his hair was sticking up from having the car window down as he drove. Where Michael is mostly clean-shaven with a little scruff on his chin, Alex has grown out a little facial hair, and he sees the way that Michael’s gaze lingers on the hair above his top lip.

Well.

They sit and talk. Michael tells him about speeding through the coursework, already six months ahead of schedule and looking at an early graduation. He talks about his lab partner, the party that a bunch of twenty year olds invited him to last week, as well as the party that he _actually_ ended up going to with more age-appropriate peers. Alex updates him on what everyone is Roswell is doing, complains a little about the work he’s doing for his latest client, shows Michael a picture he took of Buffy just yesterday.

It’s nothing they haven’t talked about before but there’s an added thrill to it when he can look up from his drink and see Michael _right there_ , just inches from him. And every time he’s reminded of how Michael looks tonight...

“It’s getting late,” Alex says purposefully.

“You - uh. Wanna go get food or something?” Michael asks.

Alex blows out a slow breath and presses his thumb against the rim of the bottle. “Later, maybe. Right now, I think you should invite me back to your place.”

Michael blinks at him for a second before he’s rushing to pull his wallet out of the bomber jacket. Alex laughs and stops him, placing a bill down instead. They quip about it good naturedly for a moment before Alex reminds him _private contractor now, Guerin_ , and Michael acquiesces with a smile and a dip of his head.

It’s a short walk from the pub to Michael’s place, a small but (thankfully) single occupant apartment because _I’m twenty-eight, Alex. Of course I’m not sharing a dorm room with a bunch of kids_. Alex nods and smiles as Michael unlocks the door to let them in, then pushes Michael up against it the second it’s closed again.

“ _Mmph_. Hi.” Michael says a few minutes later, when they pause to breath.

“God, you look like you walked out of a frat house,” Alex pants, unzipping Michael’s jacket and getting his hands underneath Michael’s shirt.

“Oh,” Michael says, and Alex looks up to see his brow furrowed in confusion. “Do you - not like it?”

Alex leans forward and gives him a kiss that’s all tongue and teeth, not pulling away until Michael is groaning and out of breath.

“ _Like_ is not the right word for how I feel about it,” Alex tells him, scraping his teeth over Michael’s jaw and working his hands further up Michael’s chest, nails dragging slightly on the hair there. “You look - you look good, Michael. Happy and healthy and so fucking _soft_. I wanted you the second I walked into that bar.”

Michael shudders under his touch and words. His hands come up to fumble at Alex’s jacket, pushing it down his shoulders and onto the floor behind them. “Well, you’ve got me now, darlin’. What’re you going to do with me?”

“As much as I want to blow you against this door,” Alex says conversationally, kissing the corner of Michael’s mouth softly. “I need to take my leg off. Where’s your bedroom?”

Michael swallows thickly and points to a door on the right, down the hallway. “Do you want -”

“I want you to get naked,” Alex interrupts him, already moving towards the room. “I said I’m not going to blow you _against the door_. Your bed will do just fine.”

Michael grins at him as he kicks off his shoes, leaving an unimpeded view of the patterned monstrosities on his feet.

Alex takes a second to look at him; mouth red from kisses, eyes wide and curls a mess. “On second thought,” he says, biting his bottom lip. “Keep the jacket on.”

Then he disappears into Michael’s bedroom, already thinking about getting his hands back on his soft, frat-bro (almost) boyfriend.


	2. i'm thinkin' about some of this

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the night before michael leaves for unm, something almost happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as requested, i'm adding some stuff to this fic.

At the end of the night, everyone begins to trickle out of the Pony. Max wields a drunk Liz in his arms, who kisses Michael loudly on each cheek, praising him in fast, slurred spanish while Max slaps him on the shoulder and smiles. Rosa smacks him where Liz’s lipstick is smudged on his face and Jenna gives him a nod. Kyle shakes his hand, and Isobel follows after him with a kiss to Michael’s forehead.

He’s just about sure that he can’t take anymore of this when Maria presses a warm hand to his chest and disappears behind the bar to close up, leaving him and Alex standing alone by the exit of Pony. He’s been watching Alex all night (all of his life, it feels) and he hasn’t missed the way Alex has been looking back tonight.

Alex gestures his head to the door and Michael follows him out into the warm night air. They walk in silence to Michael’s truck, comfortable and friendly in a way they haven’t always been.

“So, this is it, huh?” Alex asks, as they come to a stop.

Michael rubs at the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah. Guess so. Who would’ve thought; me going off to UNM?”

Alex’s face is all soft smile, appled cheeks bright from the drink and the company. “I did.”

His eyes flick down to Michael’s mouth and Michael – fuck, he’s leaving tomorrow, off to start a semester at UNM and get his degree. Alex is staying here, in Roswell. He promised himself he wouldn’t do this, promised that he’d just say goodbye and go, but Alex looks like he’s gearing himself up to ask the question, leaning in so close that Michael can feel his warm breath, and it’s so easy to just fall back into his gravity –.

Then Alex is pulling back, pupils blown, mouth parted, and looking a little surprised. The expression is gone just as quickly, that soft smile in its place before Michael can blink.

“You’re going to do amazing, Guerin,” he says. He looks like he might reach out. Michael wants him to. Instead, he offers one more smile and turns, heading to his car.

Michael falls back against his truck like his strings have been cut. Thank god he’s updated his phone plan. He’s going to be sending so many texts.


	3. and i'm thinkin' about some of that

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a series of phone calls after michael started at unm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all wanted phone sex. i wanted to write a dialogue-heavy fic. those two things just happened to come together.

“Guerin? What is it?”

“Huh? Nothing, Alex --”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, man, relax."

Deep breath in. Out. "Okay. What do you need?"

"A guy can't call his friend to catch up?"

"It's just -- you've never called before for less than an emergency."

“Uh, no. Everything’s fine. I really did just want to see how you are.”

“Oh. I’m okay.

“Yeah? You uh - getting much work?”

“It’s enough. How are _you_ , Guerin? How’s UNM?”

“Ah shit, Alex. It’s real good. I uh, didn’t think I’d like it this much.”

“It’s good then?”

“Yeah, it’s good.”

“I’ve got -- some time. Do you wanna tell me about it?”

“You don’t mind?”

“No. Actually, I’d really like that.”

***

“Two calls in as many weeks? I’m flattered, Guerin.”

“Ha.”

“Are we making this a regular thing?”

“Would that annoy you? Clash with your busy schedule?”

“No. I’d like to know so that I can _clear_ my busy schedule and make a standing appointment to catch up my friend.”

“...”

“Guerin?”

“Yeah, sorry. Yes.”

“You sound less sure about it now.”

“I guess I just didn’t think we’d get to do this.”

“What, talk?”

“Be friends.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry it took me leaving to get us to that point.”

“We were friends before you left, Guerin.”

“Maybe. But now I want to talk to you all the time and I can’t. I see something that I think you’ll like and I want to --”

“Yes. The answer’s yes.”

“To what?”

“This is going to be a weekly occurrence. And I’m giving you standing permission to text me whenever you want.”

“Even if it’s to tell you something stupid?”

“Yes.”

“Even if it’s at two in the morning?”

“Yes.”

“Even if it’s --”

“ _Yes_ , Guerin. Anything. Anytime.”

***

“Anyway, so we had to wait until the damn machine stopped smoking and at that point, we just decided to call it a day.”

Alex huffs a laugh. “Who knew life at UNM would be so eventful?”

“Fuck, I sure didn’t. The lab’s mostly a bunch of kids but there’s a few of us old-timers.”

“You’re hardly an old-timer at twenty eight, Guerin.”

“Their cheerful, innocent faces make me feel old,” Michael grumps “Hey, how did your new consult go today?”

“Yeah, it was good. Ugh, hang on. I need to change. I’d really like to get out of these jeans.”

“What? No! Don’t deprive the world of that.”

“Ha. What are you talking about?”

“Come on, you know how good your ass looks in those jeans.”

“You thinking about my ass, Guerin?”

“You want an honest answer, Private?”

“Yeah, I think I do.”

“I can’t _stop_ thinking about your ass.”

“...”

“...”

“Forget it. I thought --”

“Tell me.”

“What?”

“I want you to tell me.”

Michael sucks in a breath. “Shit, yeah. Okay. I’ve been thinkin’ about the last time I saw you. At that goin’ away party Iz threw for me.”

“I remember. ”

“And you were wearing _those_ jeans. Shit, the way they hug your ass. I was watching you all night. Every time you stood up or leaned against something, thought I was gonna break something. Iz gave me so much shit about it.”

A laugh. “I can imagine.”

“That night, at the end, when everyone was leaving, did you -- I mean, there was a moment, when you--”

“I should have asked you to come home with me that night.”

“You… should’ve?”

“Yeah, I nearly did. I’ve thought about that moment for months. I should have -- I _wanted_ to take you home."

" _God_ , Alex. I wish you had."

"What would have happened if I had?"

"What?"

"What do you think -- I want you to tell me what would have happened."

"Oh. _Oh_." The rustle of movement. The bouncing springs of a mattress. "Would've followed you home, if you'd asked. Parked the truck outside your place."

"I'm guessing you would have been on me the second I got out of my car. You've never been patient."

"Mm, not this time. This time I would've waited."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Would've followed you up to the door, waited until you'd unlocked it and turned off all those security measures of yours. Cause once I'd kissed you -- I wouldn't have been able to stop."

" _Guerin._ "

"I miss kissing you, Alex. Ain't nothing compares to it. Miss the way your hands get in my hair and tug. I like it when you put me where you want me."

"Me -- me too. I love your hair."

"Yeah? Go on."

"I'm not good at this."

"That's alright. We both know I can talk enough for the two of us -"

"Your curls are so soft, so easy to feel grip onto. I like to -- I like angling your head. Pulling it back so you bare your throat. But that's not -- my favorite is when I can get you where I need you. Get your mouth where I want it."

" _Jesus Alex_."

"What?"

"I thought you said you were bad at this." A hiss.

"Michael, are you…?"

"Yeah, fuck. Are you?"

" _Yes._ Please don't stop talking."

"I would've got my mouth on you, anywhere you'd let me. Down your neck, across your chest, suck a mark into your hip while you get out of those jeans. Christ, those jeans. I love 'em but I wanna burn 'em just to get to your skin."

A soft laugh this time, broken by a gasp.

“You wouldn’t be laughing once I got my mouth on you. So desperate for it I wouldn’t even tease, cause it’s been too long. Just swallow you down and get you hard with my tongue. Love the sounds you make.”

A breathless whine.

“Yeah, like that. Wanna be the one who makes you sound like that.”

“You are. _God, Michael,_ you are. I think about you all the time. Can’t help but picture you when I -- and I wasn’t sure if I _should_ be-”

“Hush, darlin’. I give you - _ahh_ \- full and everlasting permission to picture me naked, especially when you’ve got your hand on your dick. Now keep - _uhn, fuck_ \- tell me what you think about.”

“ _Everything_ -” air rushes out in a puff. “God, I miss your mouth. I thought I’d forget how you look kneeling in front of me but I can picture it like it was yesterday. You look so good on your knees for me.”

A breathy whimper.

“You are, Michael. So good for me. Wanted to take you home and fuck you that night. Give you something to remember me by. Make you forget everything but the way I fuck you.”

“Jesus christ - _yes_.”

“Want to fuck you now. Would you let me -- in that new apartment of yours?”

“Yes, _please_.”

“We’d need a whole weekend, cause once we started, we wouldn’t be able to stop. I want to _ruin_ you in every room of that place. Blow you in your kitchen, ride you on that stupid couch you bought. Fuck, I _really_ miss that. Just climbing in your lap and holding you there while I sink down--”

“Oh _fuck_ , Alex, I can’t -- ‘m gonna-”

“ _Yes_. Come on; I want to hear you.”

“ _Ah, aah, fuck, Alex,_ fuck _fuck_.”

“Yeah, me too. _Michael_. Oh fu-”

A muffled curse.

“...”

“...”

“Well that was, uh, unexpected.”

“Was it?”

“Okay, not entirely. Guess I just didn’t expect it tonight.”

“Me either. Um. I have to uh - clean up. Among other things.”

A chuckle. “Yeah, me too. I’ll call you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah, okay.”

***

“Hey.”

“Uh -- hey.”

"Listen, about last night-”

“Come and visit me.”

“What?”

“I want to see you. I miss you. Do you -- will you come and visit?”

“Does this have anything to do with the fact that we had phone sex last night?”

“Fucking hell -- _yes_ , of course it does. It’s not just that though. I’ve been thinking about getting you here for ages. I _miss you_ , Alex.”

“I miss you too.”

“So…?”

“I’m free this weekend.”

“That soon, huh? Wow, you must _really_ miss me.”

“Oh fuck you.”

“Come and visit me and you can.”

“...”

“...”

“Don’t look so smug.”

“You have no idea what I look like right now.”

“I can hear the grin through the phone. Is this weekend fine or not?”

“Even if I had plans, I’d cancel ‘em. We can meet at the campus pub. It’s great. Nothin’ on the Pony, of course, but it holds its own.”

“Sounds good. So it’s… a date?”

“It’d better be, Private.”


	4. and then my backbone slips (i want to melt with you)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter goes out to my server gals, because we talked about soft bro guerin writing that poem for alex in this universe
> 
> the poem belongs to vlamis, that crazy mofo.

Michael doesn’t waste time and hurries to get his jeans and socks off, though he does think about keeping the monstrosities on for a hot second. He pulls his shirt off but keeps the bomber jacket on, as Alex had requested, and then makes his way to his bedroom in only the jacket and his boxers.

By the time he gets there, Alex already has his prosthetic off and has leant it against the wall on the side of the bed that didn’t have the bedside table. He’s busy shucking his own jacket when Michael walks in and he looks up, grinning when he spots Michael. His gaze drags down Michael’s body and if he were the kind of man to blush, Michael would’ve been red as a beet.

“See something you like?” he leers playfully.

Alex reaches out to grab him by the waistband of his boxers, pulling him closer with a leer of his own.

“Thought I told you to get naked,” he says.

Michael shrugs one shoulder, the feeling of the satiny underside of the jacket strange against his skin. “Gotta keep a _little_ of the mystery.”

That elicits a laugh from Alex, causing warmth to bloom in Michael’s chest. Alex pulls him again, until he’s standing between Alex’s legs, and then leans forward to press his forehead to Michael’s hip.

“What do you want, darlin’?” Michael asks, reaching up to run his fingers through Alex’s hair. Alex shudders in response, then ducks down to mouth over Michael’s cock through his boxers without any pretense.

“Ah, _fuck_ ,” Michael mumbles, hand skating down to clutch at Alex’s shoulder.

“Mm,” Alex hums in agreement. He pulls down Michael’s boxers with both hands, letting his cock spring free, and then leans back in to suck the tip into his mouth.

Michael lets out a groan, eyes fluttering shut for a second before he forces them open again. He doesn’t want to miss a second of this.

Alex sucks at him gently, swirling his tongue over the slit, before pulling back to grin up at him. “I told you I was going to blow you. Can you stand still for me?”

Michael nods his head dumbly, as if he’s going to say _no_ to that.

Alex bites playfully at his thigh. “Words, Guerin.”

“Yeah,” Michael forces out, hand still gripping Alex’s shoulder for some kind of lifeline. “I can.”

Alex’s eyes light up with delight and then he’s taking Michael in hand, holding the base of his cock as he swallows him down. There’s no teasing happening tonight apparently, is all that Michael can think as Alex works his throat around his cock. Alex pulls off momentarily to spread the flat of his tongue down the length of him, then immediately sinks back down. He brings his hand up to meet his mouth, the added saliva mixing with precum to ease the slide, and Michael can’t believe he’s about to go off like a rocket but it’s been too long. Too long since he’s been touched by anyone that wasn’t his own hand, and definitely too long since he’s been touched by Alex.

“Alex, fuck. I’m not gonna -” he tries to get out.

Alex just hums in agreement and continues what he’s doing, not slowing down or speeding up, but maintaining a relentless pace. His legs shake with the effort of staying still and standing. It barely takes any time at all before Michael is spilling into his mouth with a groan, hips jerking forward when Alex swallows around him.

“Fuck,” he says, when Alex has let his cock slip out of his mouth, and he can form words and thoughts again. He reaches out to run a thumb along Alex’s bottom lip, red from use, and Alex’s tongue flicks out against the pad of it.

“Get on the bed,” Alex says, voice low and intent.

He does, stepping out of his boxers before sliding past Alex and onto the bed, leaning himself back against the pillows at the headboard. He's treated to the sight of Alex pulling off his shirt and shimmying out of his own underwear. Michael maps the plains of his back hungrily. It's been a long while since they've been naked together, and even longer since he's had the time to pause and enjoy the view.

Alex turns, and Michael's gaze drops to his chest, the light dusting of hair there, then trails down. He swipes his tongue over his bottom lip, feeling hungry and desperate again.

Alex crawls up the bed towards him, and unceremoniously swings his right leg over Michael's own, grabbing onto his shoulders to keep himself balanced as he climbs into Michael's lap. Michael instinctively reaches out to grab Alex's hips, holding him loose but steady.

"Mm," he says, as Alex settles in. "Thought you were going to ruin me in every room of this apartment."

Alex drapes his arms over Michael's shoulders, his cock smearing pre between their bellies, and leans in to kiss Michael slow and thorough. "There's more than one way to ruin you," he says, biting down on Michael's lower lip. "You should fuck me."

Michael pulls back to search his face. "Yeah?" he asks breathlessly.

"Yeah," Alex replies with a soft smile. They stare at each other for a sweet moment, Alex playing with the curls at the back of Michael's head, Michael rubbing gentle circles into Alex's skin with his thumbs, until Alex breaks the spell to ask if he has lube. Which provides an excuse to use his powers and show off a little.

He opens Alex up slowly, right there in his lap. He loves watching Alex's face from this angle, loves the way their cocks slide together with every twitch of Alex's hips, loves the way Alex pants against his mouth and orders him to add another finger.

When he teases a fourth, Alex breaks away with a gasp and presses his face into Michael's shoulder, and jacket, with a wet _please_.

"Yeah, sweetheart," Michael murmurs. He presses their temples together as he gets the condom on, lubes up and positions himself. He holds himself still and patient as Alex shifts his weight, sliding down onto Michael's cock at his own pace. Michael stops himself from bucking up, and it's worth the look on Alex's face when he bottoms out.

They pause there, Michael's hands holding him steady while he tilts his face down to lick into Michael's mouth. They kiss for a long time, the occasional twitch of Alex's hips the only evidence that he's affected at all.

Eventually Michael breaks the kiss with a groan.

"Killin' me," he says, hands roaming the smooth expanse of Alex's back.

"That's the idea," Alex murmurs back. He rocks forward without warning, causing Michael's hands to grip his hips again in surprise.

"Don't let me fall," Alex says, and Michael feels the way his weight shifts just before he raises himself up, and then sinks back down again.

"Oh, fuck," Michael curses, as Alex sets a slow pace of fucking himself on Michael's cock, a pace he maintains with the kind of single-minded determination that drives Michael wild. He bows his legs a little so that he can add an upwards thrust to Alex's movement.

It's almost _too_ slow but Alex doesn't let up. When he loses a little bit of his balance on the right side, Michael cushions him with his powers, which makes Alex kiss him hard, speed up his movements just a little.

"Michael," he gasps into the space between their mouths, with that edge to his voice that means he's close.

"Yeah," Michael says back, desperately. "Come on, sweetheart."

He feels Alex's hand move between them, fisting his cock in time with their thrusts.

"That's it," Michael continues to murmur nonsense against his mouth. "Come for me, please. Fuck, Alex, you're so fucking good. Come on, wanna feel you-"

Alex comes between them, hiding his groan in Michael's mouth. Michael had been so focused on Alex that he hadn't realised how close he was; Alex's kiss, the feeling of him tight and hot around his cock, sends him over the edge and he's coming with a few final upward thrusts.

With Alex's weight on him, they go collapsing backwards onto the bed.

They lie there for a long moment, catching their breath.

“Well,” Michael says into the silence, once he’s no longer panting. “At least we know that part still works.”

Alex shudders with laughter above him. Michael feels it everywhere, can’t help but grin himself.

Eventually Alex slides off him, far too limber after what they’ve just done, but Michael’s definitely not complaining. He takes care of the condom, slips out of the jacket, then curls back into Alex’s warmth. The apartment air isn’t cold, so he luxuriates in pressing his skin against Alex’s, pulling Alex’s right leg over his hip so that they’re still touching in every place possible. He runs his fingers down the cooling sweat on Alex’s back, while Alex trails his fingertips over Michael’s chest.

It’s comfortable and quiet and for once, he doesn’t feel like he might burst from the combination. Alex has always made his mind quiet but this newfound peace within moments of silence has come about from their numerous phone calls over the past few months. He’d never thought he would enjoy just sitting and listening to someone breathe on the other side of the phone, but Alex is a constant surprise.

The silence is broken by the gurgle of someone’s stomach.

He grins sheepishly at Alex, who rolls his eyes and smiles back fondly.

“I’ve got leftover takeout,” he suggests, though his hand hasn’t stopped its slide down Alex’s skin.

“I could eat,” Alex agrees, then he bites his lip. “I left my crutch in my car.”

“I uh, have a spare,” Michael admits, suddenly nervous about it. “For when you come to visit.”

Alex stares wordlessly at him.

“Not that I don’t think you can take care of yourself,” he continues, hurtling towards full ramble. “I just thought it’d be a good idea to have one here. It’s not - I didn’t buy it new or anything, I swear. It just seemed like -”

He breaks off as Alex surges up to kiss him, hard at first, but melting into soft. When he pulls away, his expression is soft too.

“Grab it for me?” he asks. He palms Michael’s ass as he untangles himself to get up off the bed. “And throw me some pants while you’re at it.”

“What if I want to see your naked ass walking around my place?” Michael asks.

“Mostly naked will have to do.”

“Disappointing,” Michael says, but there’s no heat to it. He throws Alex his briefs, then slides into his own boxers and goes to grab the spare crutch.

*

They eat the takeout from the boxes. Alex sits on the bench, legs spread wide, and Michael stands between them as they eat dumplings out of the same box. They chatter about nothing and everything. Michael finishes eating first and attaches his lips to Alex’s jaw instead, trailing kisses down his neck and over his shoulders, laughing when Alex’s elbow bumps him.

Eventually, Alex puts the box down and hops off the counter. Then he drags Michael down and they fuck on the kitchen floor.

***

They shower in the small bathroom, hands and lips sliding through the trails of water until eventually Michael turns Alex around to face the wall and proceeds to eat him out with single-minded enthusiasm.

So that's round three.

***

Later, when they're clean and warm and curled up in one another, Michael presses a kiss to the crown of Alex's head.

"I've got something for you," he says.

Alex hums happily, burrowing further into Michael's side, one arm resting over his stomach. "I don't know if I have the energy for another _gift_."

Michael laughs, feeling his chest balloon with a happiness he has no hope of containing. "It's not a sexy gift."

"Aw," Alex says in mock disappointment. He presses that pout into Michael's shoulder, lips lingering on the warm skin there. "I guess I'll allow it."

Michael reaches over to grab his phone from the side table, unlocking it and pulling up the gift in question. He takes a deep breath, already regretting bringing it up, wondering if he can think of something else on the spot so he can back out of this embarrassment.

Alex must feel him tense because he makes a small questioning noise. "Michael?"

Michael lets out the breath. "Okay, for context, you remember I told you about that poetry unit I took?"

"Mm," Alex acknowledges. "You had to take a humanities class for the scholarship, right?"

"Yeah. I figured I could just flub my way through some poetry, but it was actually kinda hard," he admits. "And I liked it more than I thought I would." He thumbs the screen of his phone nervously until Alex takes pity on him.

"You don't have to," he says, tracing a soothing pattern onto Michael's stomach. "But I'd like to hear it."

“Okay, but you have to promise not to make fun of me.”

“I promise.”

Michael clears his throat. “It’s called uh - Vulnerable Lover.”

He hears Alex snicker beside him and he dips his head to glare at him. Alex puts up a hand in defence.

“Sorry, sorry,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to Michael’s shoulder. “Nerves. Go on.”

Michael takes a deep breath and then starts:

“A veteran move as you limp into frame  
Longing to be your crutch, I want to consume your pain  
So I loosen my belt, a familiar feeling  
Ten years later and my heart ‘s still reeling  
Then you show up on my porch, floating down the stream  
While I swim uphill, running out of steam  
Lies upon lies, thighs upon thighs  
Love a woman’s touch but damn that guy  
The one who lifted my heaviest sighs with ease  
Too much pride to beg, I’ll let my looks say please  
So ignore my words, this is where I stand  
You’re a pretty little liar and I’m your man.”  


Alex is silent for a long time.

“Oh god, you hate it.” Michael drags a hand down his face. “How about we just forget I said anything and you let me die here from embarrassment and -”

“Michael.”

He stills at Alex’s tone, stares up at the ceiling as he waits for Alex to figure out whatever it is he’s going to say.

“You wrote that months ago?”

“What? Oh, yeah,” Michael answers.

Alex nods thoughtfully, falling silent again.

Michael sighs and locks his phone, placing it on the bedside table.

“It’s just a poem, Alex.”

“It’s more than that,” Alex protests. He reaches up to take one of Michael’s hands, which he’s started wringing together, and brings it to his lips to drop a kiss to its palm. “You wrote me a _poem_. Before we - we weren’t even talking back then, not like we are now.”

“Yeah, well.” Michael shrugs one shoulder.

“No.” Alex shakes his head. “It matters, Michael. You know I feel the same, right?”

At that, Michael has to look down at him. Dark hair tousled, eyes intent with sincerity, lips kiss-bruised and body relaxed against his own. It’s easy to believe him. “Yeah, I know.”

“Good.” Alex smacks another kiss to his shoulder. “Was that a Cohen reference at the end?”

Michael laughs with delight. “You picked up on that, huh?”

“You’re not subtle,” Alex responds with a fond eye roll.

“Is that so?” Michael turns so that he can lift himself over Alex, before leaning down to press a series of kisses to his chest. “Mm. If you want a lover,” he sings, to the best of his ability. “You know I’ll do anything you ask me to.”

“First poetry, and now serenading?” Alex laughs below him, happy and melodic and free. “What if I just want you to kiss me?”

“Here I stand,” Michael continues to sing in the same tone. He pulls himself back up towards Alex’s face so he can kiss him, soft and sweet. “I’m your man.”


End file.
